


holding on

by zojnks



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bees, Betrayal, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minecraft, Minecraft In Real Life, Platonic Relationships, Respawning, SHIPPERS DNI, T-Schlatt, Villain Wilbur Soot, completely platonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zojnks/pseuds/zojnks
Summary: Tubbo’s caught between holding on to the past and accepting the present. Schlatt just wants his boy to be happy. Wilbur wants to watch the world burn. Tommy is stuck in the middle.Or“Tubbo’s head hurt.”
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 147
Kudos: 815





	1. Headache

Tubbo’s head hurt. It had been hurting all day, a constant ache that made it hard to focus on anything. The words on his paperwork blurred in front of his eyes. Sighing, he decided to go for a quick walk and clear his head. Hopefully, that would make his headache go away.

Walking around Manburg was surprisingly comforting to Tubbo. He had watched its meteoric rise from unincorporated small town to bustling city and knew he played no small role in its growth. As right hand to the president, Tubbo actually had a lot of input on the development of the nation.

Tubbo appreciated the new scenery in the city as he walked along the main boulevard. Flowers lined the sidewalk, trees grew tall and strong above him, and hand carved benches provided places for people to stop and rest.

The pounding in his head was getting worse. Tubbo sat on one of the benches, holding his head in his hands. The ache was now so bad that he could barely keep his eyes open. 

Tubbo didn’t know how much time passed as he sat on that bench. When he next looked up, it was near sunset. The headache had subsided substantially, but it was nowhere near gone. 

Tubbo stood up and stretched, his suit creased from his hours of sitting. He decided that the perfect thing for his headache would be a treat from Niki’s shop. Heading over to the shopping district, he waved hello to residents walking the streets and stopped and chatted with a couple of his friends. Slowly, his headache faded into the background.

Finally, Tubbo arrived at Niki’s shop to the smell of fresh baked cookies. He walked inside, a small bell tinkling to announce his arrival. Niki walked out from the kitchen, apron covered in flour and a smile on her face.

“What can I do for you, Tubbo?” She asked.

“One chocolate chip cookie, please!” He replied pleasantly. “Oh, and a water! For my headache.”

Niki’s face immediately dropped and she rushed over to him from behind the counter. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead as he squirmed under her attention. 

“Hmmm,” she said, the space between her eyebrows scrunched in worry, “No fever, but you better keep an eye out for yourself, okay, Tubbo?”

He nodded, eager to get her out of his personal space. She seemed satisfied with that and left to go grab his items.

She returned with his stuff, plus an extra cookie, and refused his money when he offered it.

“It’s on the house tonight, Tubbs. Go lie down, eat your cookies, and feel better, okay?”

Smiling, he thanked her and gave her a parting hug. He really was lucky to have so many people that cared about him in Manburg.

-

Tubbo woke the next morning not to an alarm, but to the sun shining through his window. Confused, he whipped his covers off and ran to his closet to get ready for the day. His alarm usually woke him before the sun rose; after all, he was a busy boy. 

Just as he was pulling on his pants, he heard a knock at his door. He finished putting on his pants before he called to let whoever was at the door in. 

President Schlatt walked in, looking dapper as ever in his fitted suit. However, the gentle look on his face ruined the whole “imposing and powerful president” act. 

“Tubbster, why didn’t you tell me you felt sick yesterday?” Schlatt asked, sitting down on the chair in the corner of Tubbo’s room.

Tubbo blushed, sitting down in his bed. He was embarrassed Schlatt found out. He didn’t want the president worrying about little old him.

“It–it was nothing, Mr. President, don’t worry about it! Who told you? Nihachu?”

Schlatt nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He leveled Tubbo with a serious, concerned look.

“Tubbo, I care about you. You know that, right? Me, Quackity, George—we all care about you. We want you to be healthy.”

Schlatt paused, seemingly trying to collect his thoughts.

“If... if we’re working you too hard, you gotta tell us, bud, okay?”

Schlatt looked ashamed of himself. Tubbo quickly rushed to tell him that overworking was not the cause of his headache.

“Mr. President, I love my job! I love helping Manburg and all of the wonderful people who live here. It... it gives me a purpose I didn’t have before. And I love helping you and Mr. Quackity and Mr. George! Trust me, yesterday was a one off fluke, okay?”

Schlatt still looked troubled, but he pasted on a smile for Tubbo’s benefit. He walked over to Tubbo and ruffled his hair, his touch warm and gentle. Tubbo leaned into it, relishing the comfort it gave him.

“Oh, and I turned off your alarm so you could sleep in. You don’t have any work today, so just take it easy and get some rest. I wouldn’t want my right hand man to be out of commission, huh?”

“No, sir!” Tubbo replied with a smile. “I’ll rest up today and be ready for tomorrow, don’t you worry!”

Schlatt gave him a small smile. “I’ll always worry about you, bud. It’s part of caring about you. Take care, Tubbs. I’ll be back later and we can have lunch together.”

-

Tubbo relaxed in his room until lunch, reading one of the many books on his shelf. He had been slowly but surely building a beehive garden behind the White House and wanted to make sure that he could take care of his bees as best as he could, so most of the books on his shelf were about beekeeping.

Beekeeping was a way for Tubbo to clear his head and calm himself down. Running a nation was no easy feat and he, and everyone else in the cabinet, worked hard to keep Manburg flourishing. Sometimes, however, he just needed a little break and working with his bees helped him relax.

Suddenly, a knock at his door broke Tubbo out of his reverie. Getting up, he flipped up his hoodie to cover his bed head. His bright green hoodie used to be his go to, but now he usually just added a pop of green to his outfits with his bright green tie. Being back in the hoodie reminded him of the times before Schlatt’s presidency.

Opening his door, the president himself was waiting outside. 

“Alright, Tubbo, I grabbed some bread from Niki’s bakery and made us sandwiches. I also grabbed those BBQ chips you like. I was thinking we could have a picnic in your garden?”

Smiling, Tubbo walked alongside Schlatt to the garden. 

“Sounds perfect, Mr. President. It’s beautiful back there this time of year.

They walked and talked to the garden, easy conversation flowing between them. Wearing his hoodie made Tubbo think of the old times with Wilbur and Tommy. He never talked so easily with Wilbur like this. He was always pushed to the side in favor of Tommy. Still, he could never resent Tommy. His best friend was just doing his part. Wilbur, however—Tubbo shook his head to ride himself of his upsetting thoughts. Schlatt noticed and looked concerned.

“What’s up, bud?” 

“Oh, it’s–its nothing. I was just thinking about Wilbur an–and... Tommy.”

Tubbo whispered the last part, thoughts of his best friend almost bringing tears to his eyes. He hadn’t seen him in months. Wilbur had banned Tommy from visiting Tubbo in Manburg. Schlatt had been content to simply overlook Tubbo’s frequent disappearances at the beginning of his term, and Tubbo was eternally grateful for it. But Wilbur—Wilbur wasn’t so kind.

Schlatt tugged Tubbo into his side, wrapping his arm around his waist in a side hug. 

“It’s okay, bud,” he whispered into Tubbo’s hair. “I’m sure Tommy is alright. And he probably misses you, too.” 

Tubbo sniffled into Schlatt’s side, feeling like a baby. Soon, they reached his garden and Tubbo instantly felt better. He spotted a blanket set down in the middle of the beehives and a small, watery smile appeared on his face.

He pulled out of Schlatt’s embrace and turned towards the older man.

“Thank you, Mr. President. It means a lot to me. And having the picnic in the garden was a great idea. I feel a lot better.”

Schlatt smiled back and sat down, patting the spot next to him.

“Let’s get some sun, bud. Oh, by the way, how’s your head feeling?” 

Tubbo winced thinking of the pain he experienced yesterday. Thank god it had subsided over the night and he now felt a lot better. 

“I’m feeling better. I think it was just a random migraine. Nothing to worry about!”

“Good, good, Tubbo. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Tell me if it ever happens again, alright?”

“I will, Mr. President.”

Schlatt laughed as he pulled their food out of the basket he carried with them. 

“Tubbs, when am I ever going to get you to call me Schlatt, huh?”

Tubbo accepted his sandwich with a smirk. “One day, Mr. President, one day. A day far, far away.”

They passed the rest of the afternoon in good spirits with the yummy food Schlatt had prepared them. Tubbo truly was lucky to have people who cared so deeply about him. 

-

Tubbo walked back to his room alone after their long lunch because Schlatt had some things he needed to take care of in his office. Tubbo’s own office was right next to Schlatt’s, with a door in between them and everything, but Schlatt had expressly forbidden him from even looking at his office today. 

Tubbo’s room was really nice, though. It was at the front of the White House so he had a view of all of Manburg. Opening his door, he saw his book still lying open on his bed. He wandered over to the window, grabbing his book on the way. Something fell out of it, a scrap of paper with some writing on it.

Picking it up, Tubbo almost burst into tears. It was a dumb sketch Tommy must have drawn and shoved into his book a long, _long_ time ago. It was a small drawing of Tubbo with his bees in L’Manburg right after the first war. Tubbo remembered that day almost perfectly.

-

_1 YEAR, 6 MONTHS AGO_

“Tommy, give that back! I need it to learn how to raise my bees right!” 

Tubbo chased after a laughing Tommy. They had been laying down in the grass next to where Tubbo planned to build his beekeeping garden. Tommy had apparently gotten bored of laying down and grabbed Tubbo’s book in an attempt to spice things up. Tubbo didn’t mind too much—after all, Tommy always got bored whenever they did what Tubbo wanted.

“Seriously, Tommy! Give it back!”

Breathless, Tommy skidded to a stop. He handed the book to Tubbo with a sheepish grin and a sweet apology on his lips. Tubbo, of course, forgave him and they began the long walk back to their house. 

Tubbo would finish his garden one day. Right now, he had to focus on helping Wilbur and Tommy. They needed him— _they needed him_.

-

_PRESENT_

Staring at the drawing, Tubbo didn’t even know he was crying until he saw the first tears splash onto the paper. He threw it down onto his desk before collapsing into his chair. 

It was golden hour outside. Manburg looked beautiful in this light, its citizens gearing up for another night out on the town. Tubbo loved golden hour—it reminded him of honey. 

Tubbo really missed Tommy. He knew now that Wilbur and Tommy had never treated him the best, but he was willing to overlook that in favor of the wonderful times he had shared with his best friend. He missed having fun with someone his own age—someone who would laugh at his jokes and run wild with him in the woods. Someone who would help him play pranks and eat all the pastries in Niki’s shop. Someone who was his other half. Someone who he couldn’t live without. 

Tubbo sighed, finally having run out of tears. His head was starting to hurt again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! I’ve been loving all the content coming from this community the past few weeks and thought I would try my hand at something. This is not beta read, but I would love a spelling/grammar beta if anyone would like to volunteer :)) I envision this story as something of an alternate universe to the current arc of the smp, with shifting POVs and all. But the main focus will be on Tubbo. Let me know if you have any ideas, I’m all ears! Kudos and comments are very appreciated ;)


	2. The Tunnel

Tubbo hid the drawing in the very back of his (surprisingly) large closet. There, in the back with the spiders and the darkness, his past would live. He decided he wouldn’t dwell on it any longer; instead, he would spend his time enjoying himself in the wonderful nation of Manburg that he loved so much.

Tubbo spent the next few days pushing Tommy and Tommy’s drawing and all memories of Tommy back into the deepest recesses of his mind. He figured this was the reason his head hurt, from the emotional and physical toll this forgetting was taking on him. 

This time, he told Quackity and Schlatt that he wasn’t feeling too well. Schlatt gave him some work that was more focused on visiting people in the community rather than sitting at a desk all day and staring at mountains of paperwork. Tubbo enjoyed walking around the city and talking to its inhabitants—it was insightful to see all they had to say.

“Tubbo! How are you, you little bastard!” 

Tubbo turned, a smile already on his face.

“Minx! I’m good, I’ve just had a bit of headache these past few days. How’re you?”

Her features dropped just a bit, but her smile stayed. Minx was one of his favorite villagers. She was feisty and always in the mood for trouble. Plus, she was one of the only people who talked back to Schlatt, and _that_ was always entertaining to watch.

“I’m good, Tubbster. The bar has been making a lot of money recently, but it is getting nearer to the holidays, so that’s probably the reason why? How’s the horned fucker doing up in his castle on the hill?”

Tubbo laughed, always so fascinated by Minx’s foul mouth. 

“The President is good, very busy as always. Both him and Mr. Quackity have been taking good care of me, though. Making sure my headache isn’t too bad.”

“Well, if you ever need something stronger for that headache, you know who to call,” she said with a wink.

Tubbo just rolled his eyes at her antics and waved goodbye. He had to go check on the construction in the new development at the back of Manburg. It was more housing for their growing population, but it had been a hassle recently. Supplies had gone missing, construction had been damaged, and they were having issues with animals in the forest. Plus, Schlatt was having a foreign affairs nightmare dealing with the Dream Kingdom about expanding Manburg.

Tubbo’s walk to the back of the city was filled with warmth and happiness. The joy of the citizens was apparent in all their actions—and they took great care of their city. There was never any trash in Manburg and graffiti and vandalism was practically nonexistent. The people took pride in their great nation, and for that, Tubbo was grateful.

Tubbo arrived at the construction site soon enough and greeted the manager, Ty. 

“Well, Mr. Secretary of State, we’ve experienced some more minor setbacks. Also... we’ve discovered something concerning. There seems to be a tunnel running from the forest into the sewers. We found it when we were digging to connect the houses to the sewer system.”

Tubbo’s expression tightened and his face went white. Trying to calm himself down, he took some deep breaths before turning back to Ty.

“Can... can you take me to this tunnel, please?” 

-

“—and it was hand dug, couldn’t have been more than two people!! Lined with torches, very simple. We didn’t go very far, but–but–but—“

“Tubbo, stop, please! You’re going to hyperventilate. Calm down, bud, I can tell this is upsetting you,” Schlatt said, rising from his seat with a worried expression.

He walked over to Tubbo and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. Tubbo began to sob into Schlatt’s chest, nerves like a live wire.

Schlatt gently patted his back. Slowly, _slowly_ , Tubbo’s tears began to calm. 

“I just...” Tubbo whispered into Schlatt’s chest, barely able to force the words out. “What if–what if it’s them? Trying to get back in? Trying to do something...”

Tubbo trailed off, unable to even think of the end of that sentence. They wouldn’t—they _wouldn’t_. Besides, Schlatt would never let it happen.

-

Above Tubbo, unbeknownst to the distraught teen, Schlatt’s mind was connecting the dots the boy’s refused to. If Wilbur and Tommy—and god knows who else—were trying to get into the city, it wouldn’t be for anything benign. No, they had to be planning something, something nefarious. Whatever it was, Schlatt would get to the bottom of it.

He slowly drew back from Tubbo and then held him at arms length. Desperately, he tried to prevent the anger from showing in his eyes.

“Whatever it is, I’ll get to the bottom of it, okay, Tubbo?”

The boy nodded, eyes red and puffy. He was still sniffling.

“Look me in the eye, bud. And tell me you understand.”

Tubbo slowly raised his head and his sad, sad eyes met Schlatt’s. A cold anger overtook Schlatt, one he couldn’t prevent.

The ice, unfortunately, bled into his tone.

“Tell me, Tubbo. Tell me you understand that I’ll never let anything happen to you, or anyone else in this city. I’ll kill them first.”

“Y–yes, Mr. President,” Tubbo whispered.

“Good man, Tubbo. Now, get some rest. You can relax right here in the couch in my office or you can head to your room. I’ll just be doing paperwork.”

Tubbo nodded wearily. “I’ll–I’ll sleep on your couch.”

Schlatt gave him one last quick hug before leading him over to the couch. Tubbo laid down, eyes closing from exhaustion the minute his head hit the soft velvet. Smiling sadly, Schlatt dragged a blanket over him.

Tubbo had been an invaluable resource to the nation since the start. No one would take him away from Manburg—or away from Schlatt.

-

The next morning, Schlatt woke up in the early morning. Outside, fog swathed the street lamps like honey, diluting their bright lights and making everything look blurry. It will rain today, Schlatt decided. A perfect cover for exploring the secret tunnel.

He got dressed quickly and picked out a blood red tie as the finishing piece to his usual suit. He needed to look extra intimidating today, in case he ran into the rebels. Quackity would be accompanying him as protection, but Schlatt wasn’t exactly sure of the man’s PVP skills, so he slid his own Netherite sword into his inventory. It was rarely used, but it was better to be safe than sorry. 

Schlatt walked past Tubbo’s door very carefully as he didn’t want to wake the poor boy. Tubbo needed all the sleep he could get after his emotional day yesterday. 

Quackity was up and ready in the dining room when Schlatt walked in. They had decided to meet there as it was far away from Tubbo’s room so they wouldn’t disturb him. 

“I, uh, packed Tubbo lunch for today since we’re probably going to be gone a while.”

Quackity looked embarrassed at this confession, but Schlatt accepted it with a smile. 

“Good idea, Mr. Vice President. I knew there was a reason I picked you, other than having the fattest ass in the cabinet.”

They laughed together for a minute before turning serious.

“So, what is it we’re going to be doing today, exactly?” Quackity asked.

“Well, we already know that the tunnel leads straight into the sewers, so we don’t need to go that way. However, we don’t know where it goes in the opposite direction. All the construction site manager told Tubbs was that it went ‘into the forest’. That’s a very broad statement, and we need to make sure that’s what—or who—ever is coming though that tunnel isn’t a threat to Manburg.”

Quackity nodded, content with this explanation. He turned and was ready to leave when Schlatt called for him to wait.

“I’m gonna leave a little note for Tubbo, make sure he knows where we’ve gone. We’ll be back before sundown, though.”

-

Tubbo found the note on the dining room after stumbling out of his room in a panic, terrified that he had missed his alarm. He collapsed into a dining chair, clutching the note in one hand.

 _Quackity and I have gone to look at the tunnel,_ it read. _Don’t hesitate to message me if you need us — Schlatt._

Sighing, he placed his head in his hands. He could feel the beginnings of yet another headache coming on. The last thing he wanted was for Schlatt and Quackity to leave literally the day after he voiced his worries about the tunnel.

He didn’t want them to get hurt—or worse. He knew how painful respawn was. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Tubbo stood up, deciding he would have some breakfast before doing anything else. He walked into the massive kitchen and over to the walk-in fridge, ready to scour the shelves for a suitable breakfast.

To his surprise, he found a bag labeled with his name sitting on one of the shelves. Curiously, he opened it and looked inside to find a small meal with a note on top of it. 

_For lunch — Quackity :-)._

Tubbo smiled. He set the bag back down on the shelf and decided to just grab an apple for breakfast. Perhaps he would stop by Niki’s for a snack before he ate lunch. A lunch he was now looking forward to. After all, it was no secret that Quackity was a great cook.

Tubbo left the kitchen to wander around the rest of the White House. He enjoyed the grounding feeling of the soft rugs under his feet. The White House was infused with such a casual luxury that Tubbo often forgot how lucky he was to live in it. 

His apple was soon finished and Tubbo found himself in the main reception room of the White House. Hung on the wall were framed paintings of Schlatt, Quackity, and George and gorgeously carved benches sat under them. It was a room full of grandeur, a room that practically overflowed with splendor. 

Sighing, Tubbo laid down on one of the benches. The cool wood was comforting, but he felt inadequate lying in such a wonderful room in a hoodie and sweats. Tubbo had big shoes to fill, and while he tried his best, he often worried that he disappointed Schlatt and Quackity. 

They always reassured him that wasn’t the case, but Tubbo knew the truth. He would never be spectacular, outstanding, or prodigious at anything. He would never be the most confident person in the room, nor would he ever have the best ideas. Tubbo was second-rate—he was B-tier, the supporting class. He was usually okay with that, but in times like this with inspiration all around him, his aspirations became bigger than he could ever achieve.

After all, he could never be the best—he could never be Tommy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who do you think is using the tunnel?? And how will Tubbo feel about what Schlatt and Quackity may find hmmm?? Hope you enjoyed and make sure to leave a kudos or comment if you did ;) Also, I’m wondering if anyone would be interested in a playlist for this story? If so, I’d love to make one :)))


	3. Loyalty

Schlatt stalked through the city streets in a terrible mood. Quackity trailed behind him, saying hi to the residents who were awake in the early morning. After leaving the note for Tubbo, he felt so immensely guilty that he almost didn’t go through with their plan, but Quackity convinced him at the last second.

So, here he was, heading to the tunnel at 3am with only Quackity as his protection. He had messaged the construction site manager, Ty, to be there so he could get more information on the specifics of the tunnel. Schlatt knew Ty from a previous server, so the boy had no trouble getting up and helping his old friend.

Finally, they arrived at the construction site. Ty stood waiting for them near the tunnel holding a lantern so they could see him amidst the dense fog. Near the edge of the city, the wind howled through the forest. It was never this loud at the White House. The noise was... unsettling, to say the least.

“Ty. How ya doin’?” Schlatt asked, trying to get the pleasantries out of the way as soon as possible.

“I’m doing good, Mr. President. This right here is the tunnel. It’s pretty dark, so I’d recommend you bring some torches to light it up. Also, we only went as far in as the old city walls, so beyond that, I’m not sure what’s in it. Could be booby-trapped, I don’t know.”

Schlatt nodded, peering down into the hole that led down to the tunnel. He was about to thank Ty and then hop down, but he realized that Quackity wasn’t with him.

Sighing, he stood up and looked behind him, trying to spot Quackity. The construction site was dark and the fog made it even worse, so he couldn’t see a thing. 

“Quackity?” He called out into the darkness.

“Coming!” A voice shouted from afar.

“Jesus Christ, things never change, huh, Ty? You trade one himbo helper for another.”

Ty laughed, obviously thinking back to their old times. Simpler times.

“It must be hard to find good help around here, huh, Schlatt?”

“You have no idea, Ty,” Schlatt said as he watched Quackity come racing around a corner, a zombie not too far behind him. “No idea.”

-

The tunnel was spookier than Schlatt imagined. It was a one by two dirt hole dug by hand, shovel marks still apparent on the walls. Torches were spaced every so often, but it was still dark most of the time. Schlatt had both his sword and torch equipped, ready to defend himself from any danger.

“I still can’t believe I had to save you from a zombie,” he whispered.

Behind him, Quackity groaned. “This again? Didn’t we just spend 30 minutes arguing over it?”

“I know, I know, I just— a zombie, dude! I brought you along for protection and I had to protect you!”

Quackity muttered something under his breath and kicked a rock. It echoed in the long tunnel and Schlatt felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His ears, attuned better than a human’s, could hear the echoes last a long time. This was one big tunnel.

“I wonder how Tubbo’s doing,” Quackity said after they walked for another half hour.

“Hopefully he’s doing good. I bet he found that lunch you made him. That was nice, by the way.”

“Thanks, man. Means a lot coming from you,” Quackity replied sheepishly.

Suddenly, Schlatt stopped in his tracks. Quackity slammed into his back and his torch went out. Schlatt’s torch was their last light left.

“What is it?” Quackity hissed, obviously unnerved.

“I heard... footsteps.”

-

Tubbo had shaken himself out of his self-induced depression and gone to his garden to relax before lunch. Taking care of his bees always helped him get his thoughts under control.

He went through the motions of beekeeping and gardening as his mind stayed firmly stuck on one topic—Tommy. He couldn’t get rid of the traitorous thoughts running through his mind and clouding his thoughts.

It’s true that Tommy and Wilbur always kept the power for themselves. They never let Tubbo have any share, despite all his help. However, they also ran the election to make sure their rule was legitimate. Sure, they had lost, but at least they had tried. And while they never took any of Tubbo’s ideas into account, it was always because they didn’t align with Wilbur’s vision. Perhaps Tubbo was just more suited to Schlatt’s idea of what a nation should be.

Sighing, Tubbo sat down on the bench in his garden and stared out at the beauty that surrounded him. He had to be honest with himself for once. 

Wilbur—Wilbur wasn’t a good man. It had taken Schlatt’s dramatic leadership to show that to Tubbo, but he had finally realized it. Manburg was flourishing under Schlatt’s rule; the people were happy, food was abundant, and the nation was growing. Under Wilbur, they had been stifled, scared, and hungry. And Tommy—Tommy just followed in Wilbur’s footsteps. Always the good little soldier, while Tubbo was the one they had to drag along.

That’s why Tommy hadn’t visited him since Wilbur had banned him. Even the thought of seeing his best friend again wasn’t tempting enough for Tommy. No, the promise of power and revenge under Wilbur was probably more tempting to his so-called best friend. Tubbo must have been but a blip in Tommy’s past now.

Eyes welling up with angry tears, Tubbo balled his hands into fists. His fingernails dug into his palms, but he could barely feel it. His palms were calloused from spending so long with a sword clutched tightly in his hands. 

Wilbur and Tommy weren’t good people, and no matter what Tommy said about Schlatt brainwashing him, Tubbo knew that to be true deep down in his heart. All they cared about was power, while Schlatt actually gave a damn about the people. 

Tubbo walked to the front of the White House and looked out over the now-sprawling city. He thought of every happy smile he had seen on the villagers faces, every laughing child he had seen in peoples’ homes, every delicious meal he had eaten in the restaurants. Manburg was filled with love now. And Schlatt had made it that way.

Spinning on his heel, Tubbo sprinted up the stairs to his room. He was crying angry crocodile tears and mucus was running from his nose, but he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop the tears. 

He skidded to a stop outside his closet and practically ripped the doors off in search of the box he had hidden in the back. He had promised himself at the beginning of Schlatt’s rule, when he still thought the man was an evil dictator, that he would keep his L’Manburg outfit and wear it once Wilbur and Tommy were back in power. Grabbing the box from the depths of his closet, he scoffed at his previous naïveté. L’Manburg was never coming back—nor should it.

-

Schlatt and Quackity crept up the tunnel, little by little. They stopped every few seconds so Schlatt could check again for footsteps, but he hadn’t heard any in a while. The light from Schlatt’s torch was getting weaker by the minute and they had barely scraped the surface of the tunnel. It looked like it went on for miles. 

Quackity had a hard time staying quiet, but after the fifth time of Schlatt pinching every time he tried to speak, he finally got the message. Now, all that could be heard in the tunnel was their breath and their footsteps. As the torch slowly died and the air became stiller, their walk became even creepier. Schlatt could tell Quackity was about to burst behind him.

“Sch–Schlatt, don’t you think we should turn around and come again another day with more back up? I... I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

Schlatt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Quack, what did I say about talking?”

“Oh, right, sorry. Just a thought.”

Schlatt’s annoyance with Quackity had preoccupied his mind so much that he hadn’t even noticed the torches placed on the walls had stopped. This section was dark—too dark. The only light was from Schlatt’s meager torch. 

He held up a hand to stop Quackity. The air around them had gone completely still, almost as if it was waiting for something—or someone. 

Without the crunch of gravel and dirt under their feet, the silence was deafening. 

Schlatt barely had time to react before a blade came slicing through the air in front of him.

“DUCK!” He shouted to Quackity and they both dropped to the ground.

Breathing heavily, Schlatt stared at the boots in front of his face. He cursed himself for not having heard the intruder before, but obviously they were skilled opponent. 

He dropped the torch and slowly stood up, hands in the air. Behind him, he could hear Quackity do the same. 

“We mean you no harm,” Schlatt said slowly, raising his head to meet the eyes of the man who had just tried to kill him. 

As he saw who it was, he had to stop himself from gasping. 

-

Tubbo lugged the box outside, his uniform and other assorted L’Manburg memorabilia jostling around inside. Dropping it on the stone patio of the White House, Tubbo looked out at the bright sun. His head was pounding, his anger and sadness compounding to make his headache even worse. It seemed like all he ever did these days was deal with headaches. 

Sighing, he tried to forget his headache, or at least ignore it. He didn’t need any distractions from what he was about to do. 

Equipping his flint and steel from his inventory, Tubbo tossed the cool metal around in his hands for a moment while staring out at the sun. He contemplated if this was truly the right thing to do, or if he was only doing it out of anger.

But, thinking back to the horrors of war, to the nightmares that still plagued him night after night, Tubbo made his final decision. What Wilbur did to him and Tommy was unacceptable—Tubbo would no longer hold any allegiance or loyalty to him.

Tubbo ignited the box in one quick motion, flames jumping to life in the windy afternoon air. The flames flickered and popped in front of him and slowly ate away at his old uniform. The sun behind the box looked like an extension of the flames, bright fiery reds and oranges lighting up the sky. 

Reflected in Tubbo’s eyes, the flames chewed away at the box until nothing remained but ash. Tubbo’s face was cold, his expression emotionless. He stared at the ashes for a few more seconds before turning on his heel and heading back into the White House. He pressed a button on the wall and spoke into the intercom.

“I need someone to clean up some ashes on the porch. Just dump them in the trash.”

-

Schlatt stared into the red eyes of the man holding the sword at his throat. 

“Back,” barked Technoblade, prodding him with his sword.

Schlatt couldn’t even swallow for fear of his throat being sliced clean open. He stumbled backwards, almost bumping into Quackity, who had finally been shocked into silence for once in his life.

“What are you doing here, Schlatt?” 

“This tunnel runs underneath my nation. I have every right to see where it leads.”

Technoblade let out a bark of laughter, his eyes narrowing.

“Your nation? The way Wilbur sees it, L’Manburg is still his nation.” Techno laughed again. “A leader in exile, like Lenin.”

Schlatt’s deadpan expression caused Techno to slowly let a smile creep over his face.

“‘A leader in exile’? Seriously? The man is disturbed.”

At those words, Techno withdrew his sword and gave Schlatt an easy smile.

“It’s been too long, my old friend,” the pig hybrid said, pulling Schlatt in for a quick hug. 

Schlatt laughed and clapped him on the back.

“When was the last time we saw each other? During the tournament? God, that seems like decades ago. What are you even doing here?”

Techno lit a torch and placed it on the wall. Obviously he wanted to chat.

“Wilbur sent me a message after the election that was practically incomprehensible. Something about losing and dictators and anarchy? I don’t know, I was just farming at the time so it seemed like a fun gig. Plus, I’ve known Wilbur for a long time—almost as long as you’ve known him.”

Behind them, Quackity coughed slightly, obviously feeling left out of the conversation. 

“Is that Connor?” Techno asked, peering around to look at the Vice President.

“No, Connor’s running the business back home. Time for that kid to grow up, am I right? This is Quackity—my Vice President.”

Schlatt stepped out of the way, leaving Quackity out in the open. His awed, yet terrified, expression made Schlatt laugh. The poor kid could barely even shake Techno’s hand.

“So, you’re the man who stole Tommy’s job, eh?”

Quackity went white as a sheet, stammering out some half answer denying any theft. Techno just laughed before waving him off.

“I’m just kidding, jeez. Seriously, though, what are you two doing here?”

“Well, my Secretary of State, Tubbo, told me that construction workers found the tunnel when connecting some new housing to the sewer system. I had to come check it out for myself.”

Techno nodded, fingering his sword at his side and looking like he was deep in thought. Schlatt glanced to his right to see Quackity looking scared again.

“Relax,” he whispered. “Techno won’t kill us—not yet, at least.”

Speaking up, Schlatt addressed Techno. “So, how’re things going over there? I heard they named it ‘Pogtopia’—stupid name if you ask me. Have they had any luck gathering support for their cause?”

Techno’s eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam. 

“You know I’m not supposed to be fraternizing with the enemy. I can tell you one thing, though—Wilbur’s out of his mind. I’ve been minding my own business, farming and working on our base, but Wilbur has been scheming in his office. I’m not allowed inside. Tommy is, though.”

Techno paused, something like regret coming over his features.

“Tommy... sometimes he goes in and when he comes out, he looks like he’s seen a ghost. The kid has seen things beyond his years—far beyond.”

Schlatt frowned at this development. Wilbur going insane wasn’t a stretch by any means, but that he dragged Tommy into it was downright shameful. Wilbur had always been a manipulative bastard at heart, but now he was even more dangerous. Schlatt would have to keep a vigilant watch. He couldn’t let Wilbur destroy everything he’s worked so hard to achieve. Manburg was finally thriving and its citizens didn’t need to be thrown into another useless war.

“So... this tunnel leads to Pogtopia, I assume?”

Schlatt took a step forward and Techno placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

“Wilbur still has my loyalty. I’m afraid I can’t let you go any further.”

Schlatt nodded and took a gracious step back. He put his hands up in a show of deference. 

“I won’t push my luck. But Techno—you should come see what’s happening in Manburg. I’m sure Tommy and Wilbur have told you horror stories about my rule. I can assure you that they’re not true. Manburg is actually prosp—“

A message appeared in the corner of Schlatt’s vision. It was a whisper from Tubbo. 

All it said was “Cpme qyick. Hurts. Psin.”

Schlatt said a one word goodbye to Technoblade and ran back the way they came, pulling Quackity behind him. Schlatt needed to get to Tubbo—and quick. 

-

Tubbo collapsed next to his bed. He smelled like smoke and ash and his throat was dry. Coughing only exacerbated his already unbearable headache. It felt like his skull was literally splitting. 

The room spun around him, his sight just a mixture of colors. Everything felt too loud: the servants’ footsteps outside, the music still softly playing from his radio, the wind whistling through the tress outside. 

He clung to his bed frame, but his grip was slowly loosening as he slipped in and out of consciousness. His headache pounded so viciously that each time it returned, he blacked out a bit. It made it hard to type out a message to Schlatt. Thinking back to the note, he smiled faintly as thought back to Schlatt’s scratchy handwriting.

The note was the last thing Tubbo remembered before he slipped off the bed frame and slammed onto the floor, unconscious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tubbo :(. Did Techno being there surprise anyone? Also, how did you guys like the alternate POVs? Tell me if it worked or not, it was something new I wanted to try. Thanks for reading :))
> 
> PS: Yes, communism exists in Minecraft. Lenin was actually a pig hybrid. No, I will not say anymore on the matter. 
> 
> PPS: I hated Animal Farm.


	4. Chapter 4: Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is doing okay with the election today! I’m extremely nervous and stressed, but writing and reading fanfic is helping haha. Hope you enjoy this! It’s a bit shorter than usual but the next chapter should be out soon to make up for it :))

Schlatt slammed Tubbo’s door open, Quackity hot on his heels. Seeing the boy lying unconscious on the floor, Schlatt let out a strangled cry of agony and fell to his knees next to him. He gathered Tubbo in his arms and barked at Quackity to go find Niki and a doctor. Then, he gently set the boy down on his bed and pulled up a chair next to it.

Loosening his tie, Schlatt cursed himself in his head. He knew the boy had been experiencing worse and worse headaches, yet Schlatt had let his pride get the better of him and force him out of the White House when he should have been keeping watch over Tubbo. 

The boy had suffered all alone in the cold, empty house while Schlatt and Quackity had been off chasing ghosts from the past. Schlatt’s responsibilities were here and now. _Tubbo_ was his priority. 

Schlatt kept a silent vigil at Tubbo’s bedside until Quackity returned with Niki and the doctor in tow. He watched the boy’s chest rise up and down peacefully. It just made Schlatt worry more.

Quackity moved out of the way as soon as Niki entered. Standing up, Schlatt had to stop himself from screaming questions at her.

“How bad were Tubbo’s headaches?” He bit out.

Niki looked extremely worried, her features contorted in confusion and fear.

“He–he had been complaining a lot more. I usually just gave him a free cookie and some water. He...”

She trailed off, staring at Tubbo. The reality of the situation seemed to have sunk in. Schlatt snapped his fingers in front of her face, impatient to get more information.

“He what? Speak, Niki, speak, for god’s sake!”

“H–h–he complained that it was like his head was actually splitting open. It made him dizzy and disoriented sometimes.”

“Fuck,” Schlatt muttered. 

He had no idea it had gotten that bad.

He shooed Niki out of the way. She went to go stand next to Quackity, who looked increasingly concerned.

Schlatt turned to the doctor, a man he knew as the most knowledgeable one in the nation.

“D–Do you have any ideas on what caused this?” Schlatt broke himself off, voice cracking under the strain of worry. “Please, _please_ , you have to help us, he’s our Secretary of State. He’s... he’s too valuable to lose.”

Schlatt felt sick just saying those words. The doctor nodded and moved to Tubbo’s bedside. He took his temperature, checked his heart beat, and what seemed like a hundred more tests.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes, the doctor turned to Schlatt with a peculiar look on his face.

“Sir... Do you know of any pre-existing conditions the boy might have?”

Schlatt shook his head, getting more and more concerned by the second.

“Why? Should I have? Oh fuck, I knew I should have talked with him mo—“

The doctor cut him off with a firm tone.

“It’s... it’s nothing to worry about, sir. It’s just...”

The doctor trailed off, looking apprehensive. Schlatt was a second away from tearing his hair out. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“It’s what?” He asked, biting tone just barely held back.

“Well, sir, it seems that much like yourself, our Secretary of State is a ram hybrid.”

Schlatt stumbled backwards at those words. Quackity caught him and began whispering calming words into his ear, English and Spanish mixing together. 

Schlatt’s blood rushed to his head and his heart beat filled his ears. Suddenly, Tubbo was all he could see. His tunnel-vision focused on the boy’s peaceful sleeping face. He thought back to Tubbo’s weary, sickly face before he left. He had suffered so much these past few days—more than he had let on. Schlatt knew what the boy had gone through; after all, he had gone through it himself. 

He cursed himself again. Tubbo, the hardest working one out of all of them, the one who had already suffered the most, now had to deal with being a hybrid. Schlatt had had his parents help him when he went through his transition, yet Tubbo had no one. 

“How–How did this happen?”

The doctor looked confused for a second before understanding dawned on his face.

“Oh, you mean how did Mr. Secretary become a hybrid? Well, usually it is passed down through blood, but there are rare occasions where... well, when a person becomes so attached to a hybrid that it bleeds into their own physiology and causes a chemical change in their genetic makeup. The hybrid gene is dormant in them, but their attachment causes it to manifest.”

Schlatt’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like collapsing, like he could fall through the very floor of the White House and down into the dark, hellish pits of the Nether.

“You mean... I did this to him?”

-

Schlatt’s guilt was unimaginable. He knew firsthand how hard it was to be a hybrid—the stares, the whispers, the violence. It wasn’t something he would wish on anyone, yet poor Tubbo would now become just like him. 

The doctor’s explanation had made sense. Schlatt had heard some stories of it happening, but he had never actually met anyone who had been... _turned_. The ache he felt deep in his bones would never go away, he was sure of it. If he hadn’t let Tubbo get so close to him, if he had pushed the kid away, if he had lived up to his reputation as the stone cold dictator—none of this would have happened.

But, that’s all Schlatt had. If. If, if, if, _if_. There was nothing he could do now to fix it. The only thing he could do now was make sure Tubbo was as safe and protected as possible.

Sighing, he glanced back down at the boy’s sleeping form. The doctor had given him some medicine to ease the pain, but it would keep him sleeping for a while longer. Everyone else had left and Quackity had taken up presidential duties while Schlatt stayed by Tubbo’s side.

Schlatt’s mind wandered as he sat next to Tubbo’s bed. He had pulled over the soft velvet chair from the corner of Tubbo’s room. Schlatt assumed the boy had brought it from his old house—it was old, older than Manburg for sure. There were nicks in the velvet and letters scrawled into the legs ( _T &T_—Schlatt refused to think of what they could represent). It was well broken in and very comfortable. Schlatt was glad Tubbo had something like it in the White House.

Suddenly, Tubbo shifted in his sleep, murmuring and wiggling around under his sheets. Schlatt was quick to help, smoothing down the boy’s hair and soothing him with calming reassurances. Tubbo relaxed under his hand and slowly, _slowly_ , he fell back asleep. 

Schlatt leaned back, heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline running through his system. His worry for Tubbo knew no bounds. This was going to be a long few days.

-

Soon, the sun set and lanterns were lit outside Tubbo’s window. Schlatt got up for only a second to light the lantern chandelier in Tubbo’s room before he again took his place next to the teen. He took Tubbo’s hand in his. The boy slept peacefully on. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Schlatt called out to the person to come in. Quackity entered carrying a tray of food. He set it down on Schlatt’s lap and then sat on the floor next to him.

“It’s... it’s really bad, huh?” Quackity whispered.

“Yeah,” Schlatt said, voice cracking. “Yeah, it is.”

Quackity was silent for a few minutes before he spoke up again. 

“How... how bad?”

Schlatt squeezed Tubbo’s hand, desperate to let the boy know he was there. He knew Quackity was staring at him from the floor, but he avoided the other man’s gaze and stared out the window.

“It’s... the transition is really painful. Once the horns break through, which they should do soon, it’s–it’s gonna be rough. But I’ll be there for him.”

Quackity stood up and needlessly brushed off his pants. He set a tentative hand on Schlatt’s shoulder, and despite himself, the President leaned into it. 

“We’ll,” Quackity whispered gently. “We’ll all be there for Tubbo.”

Then, he left Schlatt alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a sad one. I think the next one will make up for it, though. Expect a lot of DadSchlatt ;)


	5. Ambrosia

Tubbo awoke to someone pressing a cold washcloth to his head. He felt... funny. Like he was floating in a thick syrup. Everything took a couple seconds longer than it should to process. The washcloth felt really nice.

The person above him ( _Was he lying down?_ ) was humming a simple tune. Tubbo breathed a small sigh of contentment before he drifted off to sleep.

Tubbo woke again hours ( _minutes? seconds?_ ) later. He still felt off, but it was less than last time. This time he could see it was night and the lanterns in his room were lit. The washcloth had disappeared, but his head was feeling a lot better. Perhaps it had something to do with his sleepiness. He tentatively raised an arm and flexed his fingers. Again, it felt like moving through syrup. Everything was so _slow_. 

Suddenly, someone moved next to him. A voice rough from sleep called out something to him.

“Hey... don’t... you need... sleep. Go to sleep, Tubbo.”

He closed his eyes and almost unconsciously shifted towards the voice. He had no idea who it was, but he felt safe near them; he felt warm and happy inside. He drifted off again to another simple melody.

Tubbo woke for a third time. This time, he felt like himself. He slowly blinked awake, bright light streaming in through his windows. Sighing, he raised a hand and pressed it against his eyes. The minute he applied the tiniest bit of pressure, he cried out in pain. A searing, biting lightning strike of pain ripped through his skull and he could barely take it. Distantly, he could hear someone scrambling next to him.

The next thing he knew, he was slowly being helped up into a seated position. The person handed him a glass of water and some pills. Tubbo knocked them back like it was as easy as breathing. He took a lot of painkillers in the war, after all. 

Tubbo’s head still hurt too much to open his eyes, but he took comfort in the steadying presence of the person next to him. 

“Hey,” they whispered, voice gentle. “How ya feelin’, Tubbster?”

Tubbo tried to speak, but opening his mouth was too painful. He barely bit back another cry of agony. The person next to him moved quickly and was at his side again in an instant. Their hand, large and warm, slowly rubbed Tubbo’s back. Tubbo leaned into the touch and willed the painkillers to kick in faster.

They stayed like that for a while until the person pulled away. Tubbo silently mourned the loss of comfort, but stayed still on the bed. Any sudden movement was guaranteed to give his head hell. Suddenly, the person spoke.

“I’ll be right back, bud, don’t move.”

-

Schlatt left the room as quickly as he could without causing a ruckus. He was headed to the kitchen pantry and determined to find a potion of health to give to the poor boy. The painkillers the doctor had given him worked well enough, but they made Tubbo sleepy and out of it. He needed to be strong for when his horns began to break through, which should be very soon. So, a potion of health would do much better than normal painkillers. Schlatt’s own parents had saved for months to buy their little boy a long-lasting potion of health for his own transformation.

Schlatt arrived at the pantry and immediately began rifling through the shelves to find the distinctive pink bottle. He pushed aside expired packets of pasta, hard cheese, and cans of beans before finally finding the small pink potion at the back corner of the pantry. It sparkled gently in the dark corner and Schlatt wasted no time grabbing it and heading back to Tubbo’s room. 

He passed by Quackity’s office on the way back and managed a small wave to the acting president. It looked like the other man was on a call with someone. At least he was doing his job.

Schlatt hurried through Tubbo’s door to see the boy exactly as he left him. He breathed out a sigh of relief. Nothing bad had happened while he was gone.

Tubbo must have been dozing off because he only noticed Schlatt when he got close to the bed. The boy’s eyes were wide and confused.

“A... a potion?” He forced out, voice raspy and face contorted in pain.

“Don’t speak, bud. It’ll just hurt you more. This’ll make you feel better without the drowsiness. Here, take a sip.”

Tubbo tilted his head back, wincing the entire team. Schlatt trickled a little bit into the boy’s mouth. Tubbo gave him a weak thumbs up to show that he enjoyed it before pointing down at his pillow. It took a few moments for Schlatt to get the hint.

“Oh! You want to sleep. Of course, of course. Alright, let me help you.”

Schlatt slowly pulled Tubbo back down into a sleeping position. The boy looked so small in the bed; he looked just like the child he really was. Schlatt frowned looking at the small, sad boy beneath him. It was going to take more than just taking care of him right now to help Tubbo—a lot more.

-

Tubbo’s mouth tasted like chocolate and honey, two of his favorite flavors. The pain in his head was gone and his mind was clear, free from any of the foggy feelings from before. He could feel the warm sun on his skin and he felt good—genuinely good. 

Blinking awake, he soon became aware of the man asleep in the chair next to him. Schlatt was curled up in Tubbo’s old chair. The President was wearing ratty sweatpants and an old sweatshirt bearing the words “Connor Complex” in faded purple and yellow letters. Unlike his usual gelled-back look, Schlatt’s hair was loose and curly, making his horns stand out less. He looked... gentle. Soft. Caring.

Suddenly, a coughing fit overtook Tubbo. He struggled up to a seated position, coughs forcing their way out his chest every few seconds. The loud coughs woke Schlatt and he scrambled to Tubbo’s side. 

“Breathe, that’s it, bud, in and out, easy, just like that, easy,” Schlatt murmured as he reached for a water bottle.

He helped Tubbo drink the water and slowly rubbed his back to soothe Tubbo’s shaking body. Tubbo leaned into the comforting touch. It felt so good to be taken care of. No one had taken care of him in a long, long time. 

Finally, once Tubbo’s coughs subsided, he realized he didn’t know why he’s in bed, why Schlatt was next to him, or why his head had hurt so much before. He glanced around the room and spotted empty water bottles, medicine containers, and a small plate of half-eaten food.

He slowly raised his head to look up at Schlatt, wincing as the sun blinded him. Schlatt noticed almost immediately and helped Tubbo lie down again on the bed. The President, so gentle looking in his new attire, tucked Tubbo into the covers. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t overwork yourself right now, bud. You need to be as peaceful as possible, ‘kay?”

Tubbo just nodded, throat still sore. _From disuse_ , he thought absently. Then, he stilled. How long had he been out?

He pointed at the water bottle, eager for the ability to speak to return to him. Schlatt grabbed it and helped him drink again. Featherlight fingers carded through his hair as he eagerly gulped down the water. Distantly, he half-remembered the same fingers running through his hair in his sleep. How long had Schlatt stayed by him?

Finally, he finished the water. Schlatt took it and placed it down on Tubbo’s bedside table, careful not to crinkle it for fear of aggravating Tubbo’s headache.

“H–How long... was I–I out?” Tubbo croaked.

Schlatt’s face filled with concern at hearing Tubbo’s rough voice. 

“About... well, almost three days, bud. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“L–Looking at y–your note,” he replied, voice raspy and thin. 

Schlatt’s face broke into a watery smile. He leant down and brushed Tubbo’s hair back, noting the sweat on the boy’s forehead. 

“You hot, Tubbster?” He asked.

Tubbo hadn’t realized before, but now that he thought about it, he was feeling hot in his stuffy old room. 

“Y–Yeah.”

Schlatt nodded and got up to crack a window. Tubbo immediately missed his presence. The older man was just so comforting. Nothing like... nothing like Wilbur had ever been. Maybe to Tommy, but never to Tubbo.

“Wh-What happened... to me?”

Schlatt was turned towards the window as he cracked it open, but Tubbo could still see his demeanor change. His shoulders dropped and his grip on the window tightened. Tubbo was suddenly scared.

“Schlatt?”

Schlatt turned, a fake smile plastered onto his face. 

“You still need to rest, bud. How about you take a little nap and then I’ll tell you after, okay?”

Tubbo, suddenly feeling extremely tired, nodded slowly. He felt himself slip deeper into sleep. The last thing he saw was a frown on Schlatt’s face.

-

Schlatt frowned down at Tubbo as the boy fell asleep. Wind whistled through the crack in the window, sending a cold chill through the air. He leaned down and tucked the covers closer around Tubbo’s body. He almost leant back up, but quickly decided to check Tubbo’s head. Carding his fingers through Tubbo’s hair, he searched for any beginnings of the boy’s horns. 

Finding nothing, he sat back down on Tubbo’s comfortable chair. The boy was going to be in for a rude awakening once the horns started growing in. It wasn’t as painful as the pre-horn headaches, but it was still an excruciating amount of pain.

Schlatt sighed. He needed to do something for Tubbo that would help the boy take his mind off his horns. After all, he was sure to be angry, confused, and scared once he found out the truth. 

Schlatt took one last look at Tubbo’s peaceful sleeping face before getting up and heading out the door. He needed to talk to Quackity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So sorry about the wait, I’ve been super busy in between school, my new job, college apps, and building my own PC (that’s a fun one lol). Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know it’s a bit short but I kinda hit a wall with it and just wanted to get it out. The next chapter should be a bit fuller/longer and start the plot moving some more :)))


	6. Change

Quackity sat in his office, brows furrowed in confusion. He was going over the treaty that Tubbo had drafted for the expansion with the Dream Kingdom and was finding a bunch of typos littered throughout the draft. He sighed, annoyed, before wincing as he realized the reason for the typos. Tubbo must have worked on this in the middle of his headaches.

Quackity pushed the treaty away from him and leaned back in his chair. His mind drifted to Tubbo. He wondered how the kid was doing, if Schlatt was helping him. Getting up and walking to the window, he scoffed to himself. Of course Schlatt was taking care of the kid. Schlatt had been beside himself with worry these past few days—he even slept in that chair next to Tubbo’s bedside, for god’s sake. 

Quackity gazed out the window. Their offices were near the back of the building and had a wonderful view of the gardens and Tubbo’s bee farm. He idly wondered if he could somehow tie a lead around a bee and place it in Tubbo’s room. Maybe it would make the kid feel better.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door jolted Quackity from his reverie. 

“Come in!” He called. 

The door creaked open, but Quackity didn’t turn to see who it was. He already knew.

“How is he?” He asked gently.

Schlatt sighed and walked over to stand next to Quackity at the window. 

“He’s... awake, at least.” Schlatt paused, something obviously weighing on his mind. “Alex... he’s....”

Quackity turned. Schlatt never used his real name unless it was something important. 

“Go on.”

“He wants to know what happened. And–And why it happened.”

Schlatt continued staring out the window and refused to meet Quackity’s eyes. The other man was sometimes too stubborn for his own good, Quackity decided.

“Schlatt, you’re going to have to tell him eventually. You can’t keep this from him forever. Literally, as his horns are going to grow in soon and you need to be there for him.”

Schlatt sighed and rubbed at his forehead in frustration. Quackity could tell that this was weighing on Schlatt more than anything else had ever had. Quackity reached up tentatively and rubbed Schlatt’s back in soothing circles. 

Schlatt looked at him with a surprised expression, but his eyes were soft. Quackity kept on going and they stood together like that in silence for a few moments.

Finally, Schlatt exhaled and turned, breaking their contact. His gaze landed on the door that connected Quackity’s office to his own.

“I’ll... I’ll tell him. I just need to get some stuff first.”

Then, he walked through the door. It swung shut behind him with a sense of finality. Quackity turned back to his paperwork. 

-

Schlatt’s office was exactly as he left it. The same papers were strewn across his desk and his half-eaten apple was sitting brown and wilted next to his ink well. Bypassing his desk entirely, he ended up standing in front of one of his bookshelves.

They all looked relatively similar. They were cluttered with books and knick knacks were shoved haphazardly in between stacks of finished paperwork. 

This bookshelf, however, contained something of importance. 

A small picture frame laid face down on this shelf, neglected and old. He flipped it over, hands shaking slightly. Staring at the old picture of himself as a child with his parents, he could feel his eyes begin to water. They looked so proud standing next to him. It had been taken after Schlatt had given his valedictorian speech at his high school graduation. 

He had managed to have a somewhat normal childhood—well, as close to normal as you could get on any server. His childhood server had been on peaceful and it was known as a bit of a suburban paradise. There had been, however, an ugly undercurrent of hybrid discrimination.

So, Schlatt’s graduation had served not only as a victory for himself, but for all the hybrids on the server. It had been a reminder that hybrids weren’t lesser than full humans, that hybrids could be just as good, or even better, than regular humans. 

Moving the picture frame aside, Schlatt reached deep into the back of his bookcase to find the old book he had originally been looking for. 

Tubbo loved to read. He would probably enjoy the book more than Schlatt’s explanation. Besides, if it went sideways and the boy didn’t even want to talk to Schlatt, at least he could leave the book behind.

He pulled out the vintage book and part of its cover disintegrated before his eyes. It was old—older than even his grandparents. It had been passed down in his family for generations. It told the entire history of ram hybrids and was used to help new hybrids get used to their new form. Everything from horns to eating habits was in there. Schlatt remembered many a night sat in the dark reading the book by the light of a lantern. 

He left his office after grabbing the book. If he didn’t have to work, he didn’t like to be in there. He worked too much to enjoy his office.

As he headed into the residential area of the White House, though, he felt a sense of calm wash over him. This was their space, their oasis in the midst of all the chaos on the server. At the end of the hall, Tubbo’s door was cracked open and he could just barely see the boy’s decorated room. 

Schlatt smiled to himself as he neared the door. They had managed to turn the White House into a home, and for that he would be proud.

-

Tubbo tossed and turned in his bed. He had woken up soon after he had fallen asleep previously and discovered Schlatt had left. Without the man’s comforting presence to ground him, Tubbo slipped into a fitful sleep. He was unable to get comfortable and his headache had slowly started to come back.

Suddenly, his door creaked open. He spotted Schlatt trying to walk in as quietly as possible, and almost snickered at the sight of the President tip-toeing through his room.

“I’m awake,” he called out, voice raspy from disuse.

Schlatt jumped and almost dropped the item he was holding. Placing a hand over his heart, he leant against the wall and breathed out heavily.

“Holy hell, Tubbo, you almost scared the living daylights out of me.”

Tubbo giggled—or tried to, at least. He pushed himself up on his pillows and tried to get a better look at what Schlatt was holding.

“What’s t-that?” 

Schlatt’s face tightened and a phony smile appeared on his lips. 

“Oh, this is just something I wanted to show you later. First, we gotta talk about your headaches, bud.”

Schlatt walked over and dropped into the seat next to Tubbo’s bed. He placed the book cover side down on Tubbo’s desk. It looked very old. Tubbo glanced up from the book to see Schlatt staring at him with a serious expression on his face.

“Tubbo...” Schlatt breathed out with a sigh. “I know why you’ve been getting these headaches.”

Tubbo’s eyes widened as he realized where this was going. 

“No, n-no, I’m fine to work! I j-just want to help you and—“

Suddenly, a coughing fit overtook Tubbo. His throat ached from... something. He wasn’t too sure this was all stemming from disuse or whatever.

Schlatt was quickly at his side and helped him drink some water from the glass sitting next to him. Tubbo hated that he couldn’t even drink water by himself.

“No, bud, it’s... it’s not that. You’re fine to keep working once you get over this. And before you ask, no, you’re not sick. It’s... it’s something different.”

Tubbo waited with bated breath for the President to continue, but Schlatt looked deeply apprehensive. Tubbo could practically see the gears working in the man’s head as he tried to figure out how he should tell Tubbo whatever it is he needs to tell him. Finally, Tubbo had to break the silence.

“You... you can tell me whatever it is. I’m not m-made of glass, you know.”

Schlatt smiled sadly at that.

“I know, bud. I know.”

Schlatt paused again and Tubbo was close to tearing his hair out with anticipation.

“When you passed out the other day, I called the doctor to come check up on you. He gave you some meds for the pain, and he also told me what’s wrong with you. Or... not _wrong_ , I should say, but different. Yeah, let’s go with that. Different.”

Schlatt scooted closer and leant down so he was closer to Tubbo’s eye level. Schlatt’s eyes were piercing in a way no one else’s had ever been; they practically stared straight into Tubbo’s soul. He felt pinned down by those yellow eyes, but it also wasn’t a bad feeling. He felt... safe.

“Tubbster, the doctor told me about this... phenomenon that occurs sometimes. The hybrid gene is dormant in a lot of people, but sometimes it can become active. Through, say, a spell or an accident, or something. You get me so far?”

Tubbo nodded. He didn’t understand what hybrids had to do with his headache.

“Well, it can also become active if someone... becomes close to another hybrid. We’re talking really close. And not physically, that’d be stupid. I mean, they admire and look up to the hybrid and care about them and all that shit.”

Slowly, Tubbo’s eyes widened as understanding dawned on him. He reached up and felt around his head.

Schlatt’s eyes were kind as he delivered the news.

“You and me, bud, we’ve gotten close, haven’t we? So... the doctor said that being around me activated the dormant hybrid gene in you. Any day now, your horns’ll begin to grow in and they’ll be some other changes too, like your ears. They’ll look like mine.”

Tubbo sat there frozen. He didn’t know how to deal with this bombshell that Schlatt just dropped on him. He could think of only one thing right now:

_What will Tommy think?_

-

Tommy picked his way down the side of the Pogtopia cave, praying that he didn’t slip and fall on a loose rock. Their staircase was rickety at best and dangerous at worst, and Tommy had almost fallen down it more times than he could count. Faintly, at the bottom of the cave, he could see Wilbur digging through their chests, obviously searching for something.

“Hey! Wilbur! What’re you looking for, big man?”

Wilbur didn’t answer. His searching became even more furious. He was tossing things out left and right, and Tommy could just barely make out the curses falling from his mouth at speeds faster than light. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, stupid idiot, where did that motherfucker put it?”

Tommy slowed as he neared Wilbur’s crazed form. The man looked like shit. His outfit was covered in dirt and his beanie was hanging on by a spare thread. His hair was matted and tangled, but the worst thing about his appearance was his hands. They were battered and bruised and his fingernails had blood underneath them. 

Suddenly, Wilbur turned and pointed an accusatory finger at Tommy. Wary as always, Tommy threw up his hands immediately.

“You! That bitch Technoblade always confides in you! He had something valuable of mine, but now he’s disappeared. Any idea of where he might have put it?”

Tommy slowly shook his head before taking a few tentative steps towards Wilbur. His hands were still up like he was approaching a wild animal. For all intents and purposes, he probably was.

“Wil, hey, it’s okay, I’m sure Techno just went off hunting or to grab some more seeds. He probably just forgot he had whatever you needed with him. Can you give me any more specifics, though? I might be able to help you find it.”

Eyes blown wide, Wilbur just shook his head and snapped his fingers to the side. He jittered like a junky searching for a high and every sharp movement he made put Tommy on edge.

“No, no, nothing more I can say about it. It’s something special that will help us later.”

He pasted a fake grin onto his face that somehow managed to make him look even more sinister before snapping his fingers again.

“Go to your room. Nothing to see here, nothing at all, I’ll just find it by myself. That’s how everything is these days, anyway.”

Tommy was tempted to argue with that, to say that he was still loyal to Wilbur, but the man looked like he might bite his head off any second, so Tommy took the out when he saw it.

Tommy sat on his bed and stared at the chest across from him. It was a plain chest, a few nicks and scratches here and there, but overall looked pretty good for surviving the last few months in Pogtopia. 

He hated that chest. 

Tommy pulled his knees up under him and tried to keep the tears from leaking out of his eyes as he looked at the chest. He could imagine the small piece of paper that sat inside of it, the scratched handwriting that always looked like it was written in a hurry. 

_Tubbo’s_ handwriting. 

The note was a remnant from the past, when Tommy still had hope for L’Manburg’s future and Wilbur’s return to his rightful place as President. A remnant from back when he was still allowed to talk to Tubbo, back when he was still allowed to see his best friend whenever he wanted. Before Wilbur stole that from him, just like he’d stolen him from his home and forced him to come to this awful, gross, despicable cave.

_Stop thinking like that_ , he chided himself as tears ran silently down his face. _You’re loyal to Wilbur, he’s your brother. He needs you._

“He needs me”, Tommy whispered to himself.

He tore his gaze from the chest and laid flat on his back on his bed. The tears wouldn’t stop, but he didn’t try to make them stop, either. If he didn’t cry now, in the safety of his bedroom, he would break down in front of Wilbur or Techno. And that was too embarrassing (and dangerous) to even think about.

As he stared into the ceiling, the note burned itself into his eyelids. He could see it clear as day in his mind, from the jagged curves to the forceful downstrokes of Tubbo’s handwriting. The letter used to bring him peace. Now, it only served to torment him.

-

_Dear Tommy,_

_It’s me, Tubbo! Your best friend :)!!! Just wanted to let you know that the spying business is going great. Schlatt seems to really like me now, and things are going pretty great in ~~Manburg~~ L’Manburg. He hasn’t actually done much besides raise Niki’s taxes (she’s super pissed about that, btw) and do a ton of paperwork. That’s all any of us seem to do, actually. I think I might be able to convince Big Q to join our side, but only a little while down the road. Fundy has_ _def betrayed us, but it’s okay, we’ll manage without him._

_Anyway, besides all the politics talk, how’re you? Tell Wilbur I say hi. And don’t forget to eat, I know you get caught up in your own head sometimes._

_Love,_   
_Your BFF Tubbo_

_P.S.: If you ever want a break, slip away without Wilbur knowing and come find me. Schlatt said you could have a one day visa if you want to come see what we’ve been up to. I think he knows how much I miss you. Only you, though. Tear this portion off if you give Wilbur the letter to read ;)_

-

Tubbo slowly backed away from Schlatt. He could see the President’s face drop at that, but the man soon pasted on a false smile. His eyes, though, contained so much sadness.

“I get it, bud, this is a big deal. I’ll give you some space if you need it, but I want you to know something.”

Schlatt paused and took a deep breath. Tubbo knew the older man had heart problems, and he hoped this wasn’t going to affect him in any way. However, Schlatt had had more time to deal with it. Tubbo... Tubbo was blindsided right now.

“Tubbo... you mean a lot to me. I’ll always be here for you and support you, okay? I understand if you’re angry and sad and frustrated a-and even really _really_ upset with me right now. But it’s gonna be a rough couple of days as your horns come in, and I would like to be there for you. So just... think about that, okay?”

Schlatt sighed, obviously looking for some kind of response. Tubbo couldn’t give him one; he could barely even remember to breathe. His hand still sat on top of his head as if memorizing his own skull. He didn’t know how to process this. He didn’t know what to say.

Schlatt stood up and gave him another pained smile. The man looked so soft in his raggedy clothes. He looked... he looked like a father. Tubbo’s breath caught in his throat and he so desperately wanted to reach out and jump into Schlatt’s arms.

But something else, something deep within him, held him back. It sounded like a mixture of Wilbur and Tommy, like memories from bygone days, like the love and support of a best friend and a mentor. It sounded like something that was never, ever coming back.

Tubbo felt a tear trickle down his frozen face. Schlatt looked like he wanted to take a step forward and reach out to Tubbo. It must have taken immense effort for him to hold back.

“I’m... I’m gonna go now, bud,” Schlatt said, voice cracking on the nickname. 

He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be in m-my room if you need me. Alex is running the country right now.”

Schlatt turned and walked to the door. He turned back once before he left, and all Tubbo could see was the care and affection in Schlatt’s eyes. 

Another tear fell down Tubbo’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys liked this!! I’ve really been loving the support, it’s so nice to see people care about what I write. Sorry this one has taken a while, it’s just a busy time of year lol. Chapter 7 has been started, though :)) see you next time!!


	7. The Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year everyone! take this as some serotonin in these trying fucking times

Tubbo finally regained some semblance of normal thought a little while after Schlatt left. He slowly worked through what the older man said in his mind and tried to come to terms with his new life. 

He... he was going to be like Schlatt.

The thought should have angered him— _it should have_ —but Tubbo couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. He was nervous, yeah, and unsure of the future, but he wasn’t upset or angry with Schlatt. The man seemed just as clueless and blameless as he was when it came to this new development. Tubbo had heard of things like this happening before, old wives’ tales of little children being turned into hybrids, but it had never come with such a... positive spin. 

Tubbo was embarrassed to find that his admiration for Schlatt had manifested in such a physical way. He appreciated the older man so much and was glad that he was able to help him in everything he did. However, their relationship had always been strictly professional—it wasn’t like the president tucked him into bed at night or anything. Tubbo knew that Schlatt valued him as Secretary of State, but he didn’t know that value extended to staying at his bedside for days on end waiting for him to wake up. 

Tubbo’s head swirled with thoughts and emotions related to his new status as a hybrid. He wondered about every little thing, from how much it would hurt growing his horns in to if he was going to have any personality changes. He laid in bed and pondered all of these questions for practically the entire day. The guilt of leaving Schlatt by himself and without an answer never left, though.

Sighing, Tubbo pulled himself from his thoughts and sat up. He noticed it had gotten dark and the only light coming into his room was from the lanterns outside the White House. He slowly dragged himself out of bed and stood for the first time in days, joints popping as he stretched a bit. He walked over to his desk, intending to light his own lantern, but his eyes caught on the book Schlatt had set down earlier. 

In the commotion of Schlatt’s announcement, Tubbo had forgotten all about the old book Schlatt had brought in with him. He quickly lit his lantern for better reading light then fell into the chair in front of his desk. He slid the book over to him and slowly flipped it over.

_The Ancient and Glorious History of Arietem Unum Hybrid_

Flakes of the cover came off on Tubbo’s fingers as he gently ran them over the beautiful illustration on the front cover. It was an elaborately drawn and decorated ram. It’s horns were massive, looking as if they could bust a brick wall down on their own. The fur must have been a brilliant white when the book was first made, but now it was a worn out grey and even more evidence of the age of the book. 

The crowning jewel of the book, however, was the elaborate jewelry fixed to the horns. Done in brilliant gold leaf that still shone bright even after all these years, the jewelry was delicate and intricate, belying the deep love and care that was obviously put into this book. 

Tubbo took a deep breath as he slowly cracked it open. He needed answers, and this seemed to be just the type of thing to give them to him.

-

_Long ago, hybrids were first discovered. It started with one species, then two, then three, and so on and so forth until one day, a boy was born with the horns of a ram. He married a human and had many ram hybrid children, all who exhibited the greatest of qualities: bravery, strength, and honor._

_The man taught them to be confident and his wife taught them to be kind. These children had children of their own until ram hybrids became rather common (relatively speaking, of course). Now, we come to the present day. Human and hybrid relations have begun to fracture. It is my intent, with the publishing of this book, to give the history of ram hybrids and explain the beauty and strength of such a wonderful species. To begin...._

-

Tubbo yawned, flipping to the last page of the book. His head was full of ram hybrid information, thoughts swirling around faster than he could process them. Looking up, he saw the sun barely peeking over the horizon. It looked like he had stayed up all night reading Schlatt’s book. 

Tubbo shut it gently and ran his fingers across the cover one last time, admiring the fine detailing on the illustration. He got up, stretched, and walked over to his bed where he collapsed on top of it. He needed to sleep before he could talk to anyone about this. 

One last thought floated through his mind before he drifted off.

_Schlatt really does care about me...._

-

Schlatt sighed and scrubbed at his face. He was staring over the mountains of paperwork left on his work desk. After Tubbo had sent him away, he thought that getting some work done would take his mind off the boy. However, he had been sitting here for hours and had barely gotten through three papers,

He stood up and stretched, back aching from sitting in the stuffy old chair in his office. He slowly wandered over to his windows and looked outside, admiring the way the lanterns lit up Tubbo’s garden and bee farm. There truly was so much life in Manburg now and it made Schlatt proud every time he noticed it. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall and noted the late time. With one final look at the flourishing garden, Schlatt left his office and headed for his bedroom.

He passed Tubbo’s room on the way back and couldn’t help but wonder how the kid was getting on.

He hoped... he hoped the kid didn’t hate him. It’s not like it was Schlatt’s fault, but he knew that in Tubbo’s mind, he would be the bad guy. Hell, if he was Tubbo, he would think he was the bad guy, too. 

Schlatt pushed open the heavy oak door to his room and practically cried seeing his soft bed perfectly made up with fresh sheets. A small note sat on top of the velvety blankets and Schlatt smiled as he read it.

_For mi amor. Hope this helps you have a good night’s sleep. I’m always available to talk — Quackity_

Schlatt set the note down on his bedside table and was about to crawl into bed before deciding he needed to change. He really wanted to get a good night’s sleep like Quackity said, so fresh, cozy pajamas would be better than days-old lounge clothes.

Finally, after getting changed, Schlatt crawled into his bed, exhausted. With a small puff of breath, he blew out his lantern and his room was plunged into darkness. He had blackout curtains on his blinds as he liked to sleep in pitch black darkness. It was comforting to him—like a blanket all around.

He drifted off to sleep, one last thought echoing in his mind.

_I hope Tubbo knows I care...._

-

Tommy shivered in the cold, wet air of the ravine. So far down, the sun never shined, so everything was always wet and humid. At night, however, the cold swept in. His bedroom—calling the small room carved into the rock that generously—provided no insulation or warmth and the sheets on his rickety bed were very thin. Nights like these were the nights that made him long for L’Manburg, for the times they had before the election. 

He pulled the blanket tighter around him and bit back his chattering teeth. If he made too much noise, Wilbur would come in and... and things wouldn’t be pretty. 

Tommy had been thinking recently. About Wilbur, about the election, about everything. He thought about how technically Schlatt had been democratically elected and technically it couldn’t be too bad over there if Tubbo hadn’t come running back to them. He thought about how Niki hadn’t visited or sent letters in a while and how Techno had been spending more and more time away from the base. He thought about Wilbur’s attitude and the way he doesn’t wash his hair and the room he keeps blocked off. 

Lying in his cold, awful bed late at night, Tommy could almost imagine what life must be like in Manburg right now.

Bright, warm streets. The smell of baked goods floating through the air. Happy people living their lives free of care. And... and Tubbo. 

Tubbo in the White House, being trusted with power and decisions. Tubbo making real changes. Tubbo being a voice of the people.

Tommy heard a tear plop onto his bedsheets and it startled him. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying. Sighing softly, he rubbed his eyes and nose and tried to fall back asleep. 

It didn’t work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooo poor Tommy :(( he will get better in further chapters tho! so glad everyone has been liking this <3


End file.
